Qek rolled over the village like a wave, and the setting of the sun brought no relief from the struggle. The villagers were holding on at their makeshift barricade, and Erin, alongside many others, was finally given a chance to rest as fewer people were required to hold the smaller perimeter. She sat directly on the ground and leaned against the wall of someone's home, briefly wondering if they were still alive. From where she sat, she could see the fight at the nearest barricade. The monsters were relentless, already crawling over a carpet of their dead to get at the humans.

“Erin!” someone called out her name, and she turned her head toward the sound. Kiran hobbled up to her, using the spear she’d given him as an assist. She could see dried blood streaking his armor, and fresh droplets yet coursing down his leg. She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, looking him up and down.

“You’re hurt. What happened?” She asked, and he shook his head, grimacing.

“Before we came down the wall, one of those buggers got in under the shields and took a swing at my hip. It bled a bit, and walking is a trick, but it’s not so bad. Cheddar took a spill off the wall and landed rough. He had to be carried back to the bunker.” Erin ran a grimy hand over her forehead, eyes closed. Then she popped the vial out of her inventory and checked the contents. She had used it once during the battle, and had been waiting for it to refill. Barely a third of the fluid swished around the inside, but Erin turned it over to Kiran.

“Take a bit of this and give the rest to Cheddar.”

“It’s a pity we don’t have a few more of these.” He said, his tone and expression somber. Then he took a sip of the potion and resealed it. “Thank you, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, you too.” Kiran smiled at her, loose hair framing his dirty face. Then he turned and shuffled down the road, headed for the mayor's house, and the people sheltered underneath. Erin fell back against the wall and closed her eyes. The first night she’d arrived on Jetriser had been the worst of her life, bar none, and yet that lofty title had been usurped twice now. She was not prepared to take part in a battle, and had she known the hell she was walking into, she couldn’t help but think she’d have taken Sigrid up on abandoning the village. It was a horrible, cowardly thought, but as the sounds of fighting closed in all around her, she couldn’t help but have them. The panic and desperation had been easier to ignore while she had been fighting. Constantly engaging the monsters one after the other.

Perhaps it was time to get back to it. She pushed herself upright and turned her attention to the nearest bit of fighting. She was still tired, but only sleep would solve that, and there was no time for it. She looked around the street one more time. Her eyes searching for Sigrid or Liam, but they were absent. Likely caught up in some struggle at another barricade, that or they were…

No, don’t think about it. Just get back to work.

Erin pulled a spear and shield from her inventory, and dropped a Binding Point on the far side of the barrier. The qek that were trying to claw at the defenders were suddenly ripped back, dragged howling towards the central point of her spell. The defenders looked around, surprised, till their eyes found her. Runes dancing across her skin, her eyes glowing with an amber light. She stepped into the center of the line, head and shoulders taller than the rest of them. Erin raised her shield. She hadn’t put much into the spell, or rather, she hadn’t had much to put into it. Even as she stood there, she lost her grip on the Bronze State, and felt the power it lent her body slip away. Her Binding Point disintegrated, the spells magic spent, and the monsters surged forth once more.

She jabbed her spear through the gap and used her shield whenever a clawed arm slipped between the gaps of refuse and debris that had been hammered together to construct the makeshift wall. When one got this close, quick as blinking, she’d shift the spear into a free inventory space, whipping out a long iron knife in its place, and taking her toll in flesh from the monster. More than one qek had jerked back in pain, only to find its arm was gone. Being the mental giants they were, they would often immediately offer her the other arm, which Erin would graciously accept. Part of her wanted to laugh at the macabre spectacle they must’ve made on the far side of the wall, wandering limbless through the press of their kin.

Actually, they probably eat the ones without arms. She thought, tinged with grim satisfaction.

[Kinda dark for you, isn’t it?]

Cut me some slack, I was transported to this hellverse against my will. Soon I’ll be dead again and I’m not looking forward to it.

[Fair.]

Lisa conceded, falling silent, and Erin grinned. It was rare she got the Liaison to just agree with her, and she’d take whatever victories she could get. Especially now that there were so few to be had, and she was running out of time. Idly, she wondered what it might be like next time. Were all Tier 2s Mages? were all their worlds like Jetriser? That part at least might come out okay. If she could get over the whole dying in pain, and losing all the people she cared about again.

[Normally I wouldn’t do this, but seeing the situation you’re in. Maybe it’ll help. So you weren’t originally supposed to be sent to Jetriser. The order for that came from way up the chain.]

Erin froze mid-spear thrust, her brain processing Lisa’s words.

But… but why? Why would anyone, especially a higher power, send me here on purpose? Send me anywhere? Why should they care at all?

[That I don’t know. I only know what I gleaned from Thetra the moment she gave you the boon.]

Okay, but why would that help now?

[Well, I figured you’d like the opportunity to ask someone about it, if you’re going to be seeing them- Hey, what’s that?]

On the other side of the barricade, a brilliant silver light flashed in the distance and the sounds of qek howling in pain could be heard.

Arthur danced through the monsters, his sword moving in broad, sweeping strokes. Like a farmer scything down stalks of grain, the qek fell. His men struggled to keep up the formation, but the Prince had set a punishing pace in his push for the ruined gate. Most often they were on the monsters before they even realized there were enemies behind, and he knew they needed that momentum. As more qek became aware of them. The press of monsters from either side became worse for his men, who did not have magical swords that sheared through the qek a half dozen in a swing.

Even with the sword, they weren’t moving fast enough to get through unscathed, and with every second they pushed deeper, the pressure mounted. Arthur was suffused with power and strength like he’d never known. The blade poured it into him like a great wide waterfall of light. Even with all of that, he couldn’t shake his fear of what would happen if they were to falter for even a moment. Vicious enemies on all sides, near-mindless in their aggression. One after the other, they fell before him, but as they approached Dangoles’ gates, the press became tighter, and he could hear his men grunting and cursing, until eventually someone cried out in pain. Lashing out instinctively, Arthur turned the blade in that direction and swiped. An arc of silver light fired off the sword's edge and sheared clean through a dozen qek on their right side.

Without hesitation, Arthur pivoted on the spot and struck out on the left, another such blade of light clearing the monsters from their flank. For a moment, he was caught in a heady rush of power, and was preparing to strike out again when his body was struck with a wave of agony so intense he nearly dropped his weapon. The feeling passed, and he took a firm grip on his sword, barely losing a step as he charged once more into the monsters, and set about cutting them down. As he fought, the Mages' words came back to him.

‘It’ll tear your soul to pieces if you don’t respect it.’

Was that what that pain was? It had certainly felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside. Could he really destroy his own soul with the sword? Even amid battle, the thought made him shiver.

Another three qek fell dead, heads severed from their bodies in a single stroke. Reluctant to call up another of the blades of light, Arthur waited until there was no choice. When his men were pressed from either side, he quickly unleashed two of the magical attacks, and again came the brief wave of intense pain. He powered through it, and before long they had arrived at the gates, the doors shattered and crushed under the qek’s feet as they had swarmed inside. Arthur paused here to unleash another blade of light back the way they’d come, the narrowing of the gate forcing more qek into a smaller field. The silver light went through dozens of the monsters like they didn’t even exist, only fading away after travelling several yards, but Arthur had an additional concern.

He realized that with every attack he launched, he could feel the power of the blade waning. Even the trickle of magic he was receiving by holding it appeared to be slowly depleting it. He surged forward, unleashing another of the sword's magical strikes, this time clearing the path ahead of them. His body prickled with pain, and the sword's energy took a noticeable dip. He knew he needed to join up with the defenders, or soon he would run out of the magic that was keeping them alive.

Assuming you don’t destroy your soul first, anyway.

He ignored the unwelcome thought as he charged forward into the space he’d created until he reached the next row of monsters. These had been alerted to his presence, but the fading of the magical attack was a gradual thing, and though it had not sliced them clean apart, many were still wounded, and he put them out of their misery before they were able to collect themselves and attack. Struggling down Dangoles’ main road was hot, bloody work and Arthur was certain he’d killed more monsters in the last minute than he would for the rest of his life. Finally, gloriously, he saw them. In the gap between two buildings, shoulder to shoulder, were the people of Dangole, wielding spears angled around wooden shields. Desperate to reach them, Arthur summoned the sword’s magic again, and fired off another blade of light, carving the path forward.

Erin watched the approach of a group of a dozen men, wearing leather armor and wielding swords with equal parts hope and confusion. There were perhaps eight of them in total, and most of them showed no hints of magic. None except the leader, who had been the source of the bright silver light that had drawn her attention. He was a storm of death as he swept through the qek, and Erin had to admit she was impressed, but something about the situation nagged at her. The young man out front fired off another of the waves of light, cutting down even more qek, and then he went down on one knee, grabbing his head. Close enough now that Erin could read his pained expression. She cursed and called out.

“Looks like our rescuers need rescuing!” Erin forced magic through her body as she summoned the bronze state and dropped two binding points beyond their barricade, one after the other, to the right and left. The men and women who’d held the line here pulled the wooden constructions out of the gap, and then rushed through, quickly joined by many who had been behind the line, resting. In short order they pushed out into qek territory, temporarily made vacant by the combination of Erin's magic, and the blades of light from the man leading the new party. A row of Dangoles citizens moved to either side, shielding Erin and a few other villagers as they rushed to meet the men.

The leader was struggling back to his feet now, one hand still holding his head. As she reached him, he looked up at her. She was easily a head taller than him, and confused, she looked him up down, then she yelled over the din.

“Bit short for a Mage, aren’t you?” He simply stared at her, confusion writ plain on his face, but Erin wasn’t waiting for him to get it together. “Let’s go, let's go! We can’t hold out here forever.” Already the Binding Point spells had failed, and the qek were getting themselves in order to attack the rows of villagers who were protecting their retreat. The men with swords quickly joined the defensive formation, with the practiced ease of soldiers, and together they retreated. Dangoles’ villagers were a little less orderly at this part of the operation, but Erin forced another round of spells, creating two more binding points to keep their flanks clear. The effort nearly causing her to black out. Once more secure behind the barricade, Erin turned on the group of men.

“I really hope there are more of you.” she said, hands on her hips.